NAKED
by byebye-babeh
Summary: Sigyn was his friend from the beginning. She was his first kiss to a girl other than his mother. But she was a Jötunn—a threat to his realm. He could not allow that threat to go unnoticed or without reply. Please READ&REVIEW! \\ LOGYN \\ TWO-SHOT
1. Prologue

_**NAKED**_

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Sigyn was his friend from beginning. She was his first kiss to a girl other than his mother. But she was a Jötunn—a threat to his realm. He could not allow that threat to go unnoticed, but Loki did not expect the outcome of revealing the truth about her to change him from an honest and beloved prince to an aloof and devilish trickster with little empathy for anyone but himself.

**Rating:** NC-17/M

**Warning**: Foul language, violence, sex, and character deaths.

**Disclaimer:** Marvel characters from the Thor!Universe are property of Marvel. All other characters are adaptations of Norse mythology and the property of Veguard and Scrimpy (byebye-babeh).

**Authors:** Veguard and Scrimpy (byebye-babeh)

**Before Reading Notes (BRN):** This story is currently a two-shot story unless we receive enough feedback (in the form of reviews, favorites, and/or alerts) to continue this story.

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><p><strong>Prologue:<strong>

_I loved her. I still love her, though I curse her in my sleep, so nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devasting emotions that control man, nations, life. - Edgar Rice Burroghs_

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><p>Young Loki stood stoic on Bifröst with his father's great and mighty hand resting coolly and calmly on his scrawny shoulder. His unruly, ebon' hair had been slicked back by his mother, but no one could tell for Loki had run his hands so many times through his hair that it was a complete wreck. It was very fitting for inside he was a complete wreck. His eyes kept glancing down at his green and gold embedded shirt to make sure he wasn't bleeding. It sure as hell felt like he was bleeding out. Odin passed his paler-than-usual son a concerned glance before sighing. The All-father tugged the adolescent closer to him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "You have done well, my son," he muttered just loud enough for Loki to hear only. "They are a threat to us." Loki absently nodded, but the words did not ease that burning, aching, sickening pounding behind his soft ribs. He was turning more and more green with each stab from the broken shard that once made up his heart.<p>

Loki was so ashamed to be feeling such emotions. If his father knew how much he wanted to break down and cry out all the pain, Odin might not be standing beside him at the moment. His chin hit the top of his collar bone as he struggled to not let a soft cry escape his clammy and snotty throat. He turns his hands into fists till his finger nails were biting into the soft flesh on his palm. But he enjoyed the pain; needed it to distract him from the other pain that threatened to make him look weak like a maiden. No, he had to be strong! Be like his father! Show no emotion. Be calm. Be collected. Act like a true prince who loved his realm more than anything or anyone else residing within his realm.

But that was easier said than done. For all his life he had been like Thor, unafraid to show his emotion and voice his opinion, and now he was forced to restrain his feelings and thoughts. He had to think about each word before speaking so as not to worsen the situation. For the first time, Loki found himself forsaking the truth for the words that others wanted to hear. He was not ashamed of lying like he ought to have been because the lies made him look stronger and better. Most importantly, the lies protected him. They kept him from more hurt and kept others from feeling the hurt caused by shame that Loki felt sympathy and pity for their greatest enemy—he closed his eyes with a heavy and hot sigh. Loki had to be like the others and hate those forsaken Frost Giants. He needed to learn to lust for their blood and death until each and everyone of them was eradicated from the sacred World Tree.

The striking and clattering of hooves on the glassy surface of Bifröst sent his heart racing frantically. His heart suddenly felt like a pin cushion for all the needles. Loki could feel each one sliding and slicing its way to the very center of his core. Baldur rode the gray Gísl, holding the leather reins in one hand and gripping the golden hilt of his mighty sword in another. The dim light from the night above and the bridge below illuminated the God's square and youthful features. Baldur was older than Loki but only freshly recognized as a man and noble warrior. He was decorated in the tradition rose gold armor of the Crimson Hawks, Odin's favored guards. The helm was sharp and beak-like, looking menacing and ominous. Beneath the helm, swirls of his sandy brown hair swept out to shift in the wind. The deep maroon cape draped over Baldur and his stallion reminded Loki of a blood bath and just how very close he had come to seeing a blood bath in front of his eyes.

Following behind Baldur at a regretful pace was the brown and black Glær. Atop of him was a hooded figure cloaked in shimmering black that glistened underneath the heavens. Loki could only see the sunken outlines of her face. Her thin lips were curled down into trembling frown. But he knew she could see him, and he felt her piercing gaze driving the knives in his heart deeper until he was hyperventilating; which turned the first whimpers of a sob. Odin took his arm and wrapped it around his son, pulling Loki so that he was in front of him. With a quick glare from Odin, the woman retreated her onslaught from Loki. The All-father breathed out deeply and gaze Loki another squeeze. "Without you my son, they could have destroyed us," Odin spoke admirably. A low hiss came from the cloaked maiden as she passed the father and son to meet Heimdallr. "You have saved this realm."

"They were never a threat, All-father. This thou know," Ullr stated boldly as he came storming up to his king on the chestnut Glad. He was a warrior in his prime, but an dishonorable warrior because he forsook swords and axes for crimson shields and poison arrows. His gold steel and wooden bow was strung across his leather and gold chest piece. Hanging from his saddle was a full pouch of those infamous arrows. Their yellow sheen sent a chill down Loki's spine. Just touching the tip was said to kill an Asgardian. He was so very grateful that his father was behind him; otherwise, he knew that Ullr would have planted one of those arrows into his chest. Though he felt his father's protection in his powerful grip, his father could not erase the venomous image of the fiery red-haired and blue eyed hunter. Loki swore he saw a bit of foam at Ullr's mouth from the pure rage thrashing inside his form.

"And you are a fool for letting your heart cloud your judgment," Odin responded like a true king.

"Aye, then let the fool be me," Ullr boasted. "But let us see who is being laughed at the end of days." With sharp, harsh jab of his heels, the hunter spurred his stallion forward. Loki pressed into his father to avoid the flailing hooves.

Next in the small parade came the black as raven and vicious as boars Svaðilfari. Riding bareback atop the giant steed was another form cloaked in the same black cloth. Hrimthurs' hood hung around his neck like a noose waiting to be tightened. His blue flesh left a bitter chill biting at Loki's skin along his arms. The Jötunn's triangle face and bald head was marked with centuries worth of scars from accidents, battles, and animal fights. There was no question that he was wise but in boding evil manner. He did not give Odin or Loki a moment of his time; his eyes were set on Heimdallr who stood at the edge of Asgard.

Pulling up the back of the parade was the Van Hostage-King Njörðr. He was stout, thickly built man; it was a very typical build among the Van. With his bushy eyebrows and curly, dark copper hair set against tan and taunt skin, Njörðr was a cross between a teddy bear and an angry, burly bull cow. Right now, he looked all angry bull wrapped in brown and black leather, ready to charge and gorge out All-father. But Njörðr would never do that. Not after losing his beloved sister in the brief-conflict between the Van and the Æsir. Since then, he had never lifted a sword again. He had traded weapons for sorcery till he became the very best in all of Asgard. Loki would know; he trained under Njörðr with his father's permission. But that would be no more. Loki would never be able to gather enough courage and ignorance to return to the Hostage-King when he was the reason for the new misery weighing heavily on the seaman's hunch shoulders.

Holding onto Njörðr was the smallest figure. She too was cloaked in a same cloth as the two before her. Her hood was pushed farther back on her head, so as to expose her soft, child face. Loki desperately wanted to look away, but this deep desire and fear kept his eyes fixated on the ten year-old. He couldn't quite believe that the fair skin maiden in pastel dress who tended to flock to the shadows or the back of the crowd could possess blue flesh of their enemy and eyes the color of Æsir blood. Her bald head glimmered, and up till now, Loki had not thought much of it. It was a custom among the Van for their girls to remain bald until they were wed. But it also made sense she would be bald if she belonged to the same damned race as Hrimthurs and Öndurdís.

That little fact tore Loki in two halves; one which wanted to scream and shout at Sigyn for not telling him what she was from the very beginning and question her how she could keep such secrets from him. That same half wanted to see her burn and writhe in pain. Then the other half of him was weeping and crying for her, wanting to beg his father to let her stay. She was his friend, his first kiss, and unknown to him till the moment he felt his heart break, his first love. That bit of him was dying from the sight of Sigyn.

As Njörðr passed them, Odin guided Loki to the observatory. Inside Heimdallr stood with his sword poised between his legs and looking grimly towards his king. Öndurdís was there with Ullr loyally at her side. The magic which had made her appear small and Asgardian had faded. She stood well over eight heads taller than Ullr. In her blue arms was a bundled and shaking Sigyn, gripping onto her mother with all her heart and life. Loki could hear her whimpers and soft prayers, but he did not know what she said because she spoke them in a foreign tongue.

"Please, All-father," Njörðr pleaded as he rushed towards his king. The distraught in his voice hit Loki hard like a wooden sword to his cheek. "I implore you to reconsider decision to exile them. Öndurdís, Hrimthurs, and Sigyn have lived here for years without harm. They are as much Æsir as you or I. Please."

"I cannot," Odin grumbled. "Their presence is a threat to the safety of this realm."

The Hostage-King bit his lip, chewing on it as he clawed his mind for something, anything. "Sigyn is my adoptive daughter," he begged through a whimper. "I have marked her as my own, raised as my own, and I have loved her as my own. You have loved my other two children, Freyja and Frey. Why can you not love her as well?" He tugged at his leather chest piece where his heart throbbed. "Look at her, All-father. She is small for a Jötunn, and she shall die if you exile her to Jötunheimr! Please, let her at least stay."

"Yes, please," Öndurdís whispered. It was rare to hear her strong, brass voice quiver; Loki could not recall ever hearing her voice squirm like that worm drying out in the sunlight. "You know what Jötunheimr has become!" She looked desperately to guard. "Heimdallr shall tell you that if she returns to her home, then she shall die."

"You are her mother. Protect her," the All-father decreed.

"Make an exception!" Njörðr begged; more fury than sadness was stirring in his voice.

He looked down at the short man; his lips staying in a thin, tight line. "As a king, I can make no exceptions for no one," Odin replied neutrally. "They shall return to Jötunheimr as per the truce with King Laufey. If I allowed them to stay, then by the truce, I would be harboring them as prisoners of war. I refuse to unleash war upon these realms." The room fell silent as he sighed and looked to the floor with half-closed, sympathetic eyes. "I know your pain, old friend, but I am bound by my responsibilities as the All-father of these realms." He looked solemnly to Njörðr, watching the pain dance in the Hostage-King's eyes. "Say your goodbyes to them, Njörðr." The Hostage-King hung his head low. He said nothing, just struggling to take in the weight of those words.

"Father," Loki peeped quietly, somewhat hopeful. Odin looked down at his son; his eyes turning softer for the young lad. Heimdallr leaned closer, as did the other two Jötunn. "Is there no way for Sigyn?"

"No," he answered, not wasting any time. "She is cursed." Loki gave a small nod while the last drop of blood dripped out of his withering heart. From his large, doe-like eyes came a few regretful tears. "Send them on their way, Heimdallr," Odin demanded coolly.

He coaxed his son to turn around and leave the rest, but Loki was unyielding. All-father stood to watch as his son stood his ground. Those dark, gray eyes were glued to Sigyn, saying all the things that he could not get his tongue to pronounce. _I am sorry. I did not mean for this to happen. Please. Sigyn? Are you even_— She turned her head away from his pitiful eyes. In a flash like lightening against the sky and sea, he daringly stepped forward and pulled his lips back into a snarl. "Sigyn!" Loki commanded (and begged) through a rasp and hiss. She reluctantly turned her head back to him, but her face was like that of steel. He, who had always been so good at knowing people, did not know Sigyn at that moment.

"My name is Angrboða," she corrected after a long moment of silence. Her simple words sapped his strength. If his father had not been beside him, Loki would have fallen over from lack of blood to his brain and the jiggly fat that had replaced his knees. Her red eyes, the color of his heart, were bitter and cold like that realm she was from. That was the only thing he knew about; the fact that she was cold to him, lost to him. All that they had shared and built no longer meant nothing. Not Einmyria or Eisa. Not Fenrisúlfr, Jörmungand, or Hel. Not Narfi or Váli.

Odin took Loki and escorted him away. Each step was a relief, and yet, each step was freezing the pieces of his heart where they laid broken and scattered n his chest. While he still ached in his chest and his stomach did kicked around all those other organs in his abdomen, he found a shred of comfort that this was not unusual for the Jötunn. His father and the rest of Asgard were correct that they were spiteful, cold race who did not know the value of betrayal. For fuck's sake, all their race was good at was betraying people and causing misery and war. And yes, his father was right that as long as there were Jötunn, they were a threat to Asgard.

He settled into his leather saddle atop his prized chestnut mare. Beside his mare was the wobbly and odd colt with eight legs. Sleipnir was always sliding across the place. There were too many legs for him to control at his young age. He sneered at the colt since it had been sired by that ghastly Svaðilfari. Loki was not sure what his father saw in the colt. The poor thing should have been put out of its misery. It would have been more humane. As he commanded his mare to turn, he caught sight of Njörðr bent over Sig—Angrboða in final embrace. The light bounced off her tears. His chest throbbed a bit more, watching as her chest heaved up and down with each gasp. It would have been much more humane to kill the Jötunn instead of letting them suffer. And for sure killing them would cleanse Yggdrasil of their sins. Again, he did not understand his father's logic in sparing them.

"My son," Odin ushered.

"Coming, Father," Loki muttered.

He came beside his father. Their horse's trotted in time with each other, and behind them the colt was slipping and sliding underneath his numerous gold hooves. He looked forward for a brief second before he was compelled to steal a quick glance at the observatory. Sigy—Angrboða was being lifted up by Öndurdís. She rested her chin on her mother's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her mother's thick neck. Her large, almond eyes exposed her soul to him._ Please. Loki. I can explain. I can expla_—he returned the gesture of displaying his back to her silent please. Behind him the rumbling began as the observatory. The air crackled with their departure, causing a ripple in Loki that had him grasping clawing at the green cloth he wore.

Odin sighed as he watched his son writhe on the inside from the misery. "Pay them no heed, my son," he advise thoughtfully. "They are part of the past now."

Loki nodded before letting his heavy head fall forward to the ground. "Of course, Father," he assured with as much emotion and control he could muster from his limp body. He took in a deep breath, and then exhaled, taking with it a bit of Sigyn. He slouched his shoulders as he stared at Asgard's glory in the night. Loki watched how the starlight played off the shimmering, metal wonders. For the love of his realm, he had to let her go to ensure Asgard's glory would never fade or be threatened.

He swallowed the rock in throat as he looked down to his thumb and slid the gold band off. Loki marveled at the fine craftsmanship that had gone into make it. So very subtly there were silver strands weaved into the gold band to create the World Tree. It had been the recent gift Si—Angrboða had given him for his last birthday. But that was the past, and past was meant to be buried. He held out his hand over the edge of Bifröst and let the ring plop into the crashing waves and smooth rocks below him.

Loki began to cleansing of them, the Jötunn, with the cleansing of Angrboða from his life.

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><p><strong>AUTHORS' BLOG-THINGY-MAJIG<strong>

**Scrimpy:** A little bit of a surprise for those who follow me! I actually posted something that wasn't TGA! This is a wonderful collaboration done with Veguard (Vee). I was so excited when she through me the plot that I just had to start writing it with her last night! And bam! In 24 hours we have this prologue done! Not too shabby, eh?

**Vee:** Haha, yes! A collaboration with my favorite author! Damn, I am happy we wrote this! Hopefully you are glad we wrote this as well. We would love to hear what you thought of this story. Should we continue or just leave it a one-shot? What did or did you not like? Any constructive criticisms you have? Whatever you think, just write a review! We would love feedback on this story!


	2. Chapter 1: Cowboys & Bigfoot

_**NAKED**_

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><p><strong>Before Reading Notes (BRN):<strong> This is the final chapter of the two-shot unless Veguard and myself (Scrimpy) are convinced there is a good enough audience to continue this story. So if you want to see more of this story, _please review_, _favorite the story_, or _place it under your alerts_. We appreciate **all** the feedback we receive! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter I:<strong> Cowboys and Bigfoot

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><p>Working for SHIELD was like riding that super-awesome-looking-carnival ride and then discovering that for the most part, that super-awesome-looking-carnival ride was actually super disappointing and boring. Yeah, there were times when the ride was explosive and awesome and cool and everything thing Darcy dreamed of when she thought of super soldiers and secret agents, but for the most part, SHIELD was just another stupid, government bureaucracy. She had thought she would playing with super, glowing green radioactive isotopes—or whatever the hell they were called. She did not really care to know or be correct.<p>

But no, she was back to her same old post as Jane's lackey. And there was not even anything mildly dangerous for her to touch. It was just more shuffling of paper work, making sure the computers' wires were not crossed, and recording every single word—without using so much as being able to use dictation or short-cuts was a pain in the flipping ass—that came out of Jane's mouth. And then there was the fact that pretty much every flipping SHIELD agent thought she was their lackey. Dammit! She was Jane's lackey and Jane's only! If they wanted their own lackey, they could just go grab some shitty college student like Jane had done.

Darcy grumbled, resting her head on her arms across the unorganized papers and coffee stained table. Her hair scattered over her purple and coffee stained jacket. In the pocket of her jeans, she could feel her phone begging for her attention. Well, more like one of the agents begging to have her run more of their errands. Fuckin' lazy asses... Then she would be damned if she answered the squirming phone, and damned if she did not. There was just no way of winning. It was like she was stuck between landing on the Go to Jail marker or landing on a hotel on the Monopoly board. She sighed and buried her head further into her head.

Going to jail was better than going bankrupt because you could always buy drugs in jail to keep yourself sane.

"Ms. Darcy."

The sound of that slightly nasal but assertive yet calm voice jolted her right out of her chair and had her scrambling to grasp the table to keep herself from embarrassingly—okay, more embarrassingly—falling onto the floor like some geeky nerd. Well, to be fair, she already was a geeky nerd, but still, there is something to be said from trying to refrain from her stereotype as much as possible. Darcy looked up, disgruntled and disoriented as the sight of the first man in black Mr. Agent Coulson.

She must have been stuttering "um" or "uh" because he looked curiously to her before asking, "Are you well?"

"Totally, dude," Darcy chirped hastily. She carefully slid into her chair, acting as if she had not just been scared shitless by one of the men in black. "Jane's in the room down the hall with the other men in black."

"I'm not looking for Ms. Foster today," Agent Coulson answered. "I came to inquire about your assistance, but it appears you are busy enough."

His eyes shifted to the—ah, fuck! Darcy groaned as coffee slowly being soaked into the papers. "Uh, no, I'm not busy," Darcy said as she swiped the important papers casually into the metal trashcan beside the table. She grinned at him, resting casually but nervously twitching in her plastic chair. "Just finished up a bit of spring cleaning. So, uh, why are you wanting me?"

"I thought you might want a break. I recall you cursing out the sun last time I was here, and then you were wishing you could take a vacation to some place cold and cloudy," Agent Coulson said politely. "I'm heading to the Rocky Mountains this weekend, and my current assistant is out with a nasty cold. I assumed you would be interested in coming."

"You mean be your lackey for the whole weekend?" Darcy asked flatly.

"Possibly longer," he clarified. "Things _always_ seem to happen on these road trips."

She sucked in the side of her cheek and began to nibble on it like she were a cow. Hm... Be Jane's lackey or Coulson's lackey? Hm... "Deal!" Darcy chimed. He seemed honestly surprised by her sudden answer; especially after she put it that she would be his entire "bitch" for the weekend. "I'm getting promoted. So when do I get my own black suit to wear?"

"I think it would be best if you remained in civilian clothes," Agent Coulson suggested. "But if you feel compelled to feed your _Men in Black_ fetish, then you may see Agent Sitwell about proper attire."

A tiny squeal came from her grinning mouth. "Awesome!" She jumped out of her chair and looped her arm around her new employer. "So what are we going to investigate? An alien crash? A super secret government mutant escaped and is about to devour an entire town?" She grinned eagerly like a little toddler—damn, she felt like one at the moment—at Coulson, and even her eyes glimmered with pent-up giggles.

"How much do you know about Bigfoot?" he asked casually.

Her eyes popped right out of her head with ten pounds of confetti slowly dancing its way to the ground. "Bigfoot?" she gasped. "Like the big ol', furry guy that stands ten feet tall and has super_ biiiiiiiiiiig_ feet?" She stood on her tip toes and reached up to the ceiling to demonstrate how big Bigfoot was. "Oh my God, this gonna be amazing! We're going to see Bigfoot!" She went off on a string of giggles. "So why are gonna go see Bigfoot? Are we gonna recruit him too for SHIELD?"

He chuckled, walking towards the glass door and his car. "Not exactly," he spoke forebodingly.

"Then why?" she asked, genuinely curious. "It's kind've the worse secret kept by the U.S. Government. No offense, but its the truth."

He had a sly, know-it-all, ominous smile splayed across his finely aged, thin lips. "Bigfoot does not look anything like you imagine. Bigfoot is not so big, nor is Bigfoot furry," Agent Coulson explained. "Try about six feet or so and blue skin with a nasty temper."

Darcy literally deflated before, but her misery only lasted about two seconds before she became elated with the idea that Bigfoot looked more like an alien than an ape. It was about time that Bigfoot was reinvented anyway. "I thought Bigfoot was allusive," she replied. "All the History Channel and Animal Planet documentaries have said that Bigfoot likes to hide."

"Bigfoot does," he mused. "But Bigfoot has a nasty temper. Over the years Bigfoot has killed more hunters than I care to recount. Last night, we got a report that Bigfoot actually killed a cowboy that took out a group of so-called experts out to find proof of Bigfoot. And well, the cowboy was killed after he shot Bigfoot. There are several others hurt, but nothing major. The cover up story right now is that it was rabid mother bear that attacked them after being provoked. That story will not hold up again if Bigfoot attacks. So we are going to go there and negotiate with Bigfoot."

"Negotiate?" she asked excitingly. "Bigfoot is sentient? Oh my God!" She clapped her hands together and began to dance in place. Oh damn, she had hit the lottery today! Forget about going to jail, she just a got a free pass to go around the Monopoly board and land on Go. Darcy turned her head to the side. "How do you know Bigfoot is sentient?"

"That is a secret, Ms. Darcy," Coulson answered. "One that you do not need to know, but you ought to know that your political science degree may come in handy when dealing with Bigfoot."

"Mmmk," she mused. She followed him out the door and into the unforgiving, summer heat. The heat waves rolled over the earth like hellish ocean waves. "How do you know Bigfoot is blue?" Darcy inquired with another quirky tilt of her head. "I mean, why the hell does everyone in America think Bigfoot is a furry, King Kong offspring?"

His know-it-all smile grew. "Again, Ms. Darcy, more secrets that you cannot know yet," he answered.

Her ears perked. "_Yet_?" she asked in a whisper.

He settled his eyes upon her as he slid into his black leather seat. "Consider this your interview to evaluate your abilities and potential for becoming a SHIELD agent." Her jaw fell off her face and clattered on the dry, clay ground with a sickening crack. "You have potential, Ms. Darcy. You think outside the box. After all, it was you that proposed that Thor was an alien. That kind of observation and thinking is exactly what we need at SHIELD. Make a good impression this weekend, and you'll never have to work for Jane again." Coulson gave her a confident smile and subtle nod of his head. He slammed the door shut, and Darcy watched as the agent drove off in a cloud of dust. As soon as she was confident he could not see her in his rearview window, she did a victory dance.

_Score!_

But victory did not last long. This Bigfoot business was some serious shit. She had to sit through a three hour debrief with Agent Sitwell. She had felt like shooting out her brains at multiple points because of how fucking boring he was when it came to explaining how to go about handling and conducting business. And really, the only reason she did not follow through on her actions was because of that pristine suitcase sitting across the table with her name written on it with a pink sticky note and black pen. Darcy grinned at the suitcase, just reminding herself to sit there just a bit longer. Just. A. Freaking. Bit.

"And now," the bald agent drawled while looking at his watch. "You have a plan to catch in approximately thirty-six minutes."

Thirty-six freaking minutes? C'mon! She huffed and settled back into her cozy, warm, leather seat. "Thirty-six minutes?" she questioned. "How the hell am I suppose to get pass security in thirty-six minutes? Security alone takes all day to get through." Like a magician, he whipped out a small, awful official looking card and slid it across to her. Darcy greedily took the pass in her hand to savor every single detail in the official, federal—oh, that word sounded nice to her ears—pass. "No security?"

"None. You're above it for the time being," Agent Sitwell said as he sat across from her, folding his hands together. "Do not abuse the gift. Now, you better leave before Fury lives up to his last name."

She was pretty sure, not a hundred percent confident, that she squealed. Darcy ran like a wild woman out the door with her suitcase, cussing out more than a few of the snidy SHIELD agents that used to boss her around like some slave girl. After all, soon enough she could be like 'em! Hell, if she was Coulson's assistant full time, she would probably boss them around. Oh, how sweet revenge would be then!

Just a quick flight up to the Rocky Mountains and a long, boring, silent car ride into the middle of nowhere in the mountains, Darcy was reunited with her new boss. Dressed in a fitting black suit to match him, she felt like she was walking on air beside him. She completely ignored the fact that they were dressed in formal attire while trekking in the Rockies. Granted, SHIELD probably paid for every single one of these suits. It just seemed like such a waste of a perfectly good suit to her.

"So... Bigfoot?" she asked. "Are we going to go hunting Bigfoot?"

"No," Coulson answered. "Bigfoot knows when to come when we call her."

"Her?" she gasped. "Bigfoot is girl? Damn, girl, she dun got in trouble with the popo." She rubbed her two index fingers together in a tsk-tsk fashion. But then she looked to the SHIELD agent with more questions just ready burst from her mouth. "How do you know how to find Bigfoot?"

"Bigfoot knows when to come," he assured. "If Bigfoot does not come, then Bigfoot knows the consequences."

She nodded before chewing on her lip. "Consequences? What kind of consequences are we talking about here, chief?" Darcy pulled out her taser from its lovely case on her hip.

Coulson seemed genuinely amused by her high spirits. "Bigfoot made an agreement with the U.S. Government back in the days before the West was won. She would have her own sliver of land if she stayed there. We would not be able to touch or interact with her unless she left her plot of land—" Darcy flinched at the word. How inhumane sounding? "But if she left her sanctuary, as she has done, then we could come onto her land and punish her."

"I thought we were going to negotiate with her?" Darcy said puzzled.

"We are," he said through a sigh. "We need to detain her before she leaves her lands again and kills someone. We need to negotiate her freedom for a safe, confined life within SHIELD. That will be the problem since Bigfoot is, uh—" He took in a deep breath as he surveyed the rocky and tree coated terrain around them. "Bigfoot is more than capable than taking the two of us out in a single swipe of her hand, but that is why we have guns." He gently patted his revolver lurking in its secure pouch. "She's been shot and needs medical attention. She'll be coming for us."

Darcy hesitated in her next step. Her breath hitched in her throat. Okay, doing awesome, super agent stuff sounded fun until that little, last bit was added. She would gladly handle isotopes any day, but a Bigfoot that could take her down in one swipe? That changed things just a _tad_ bit. She scuttled closer to Coulson. While she was pretty good with a taser, she doubted her skills with a firearm. Hell, she would probably end up killing her superior by accident! "Is she friendly?" she asked meekly.

"According to Fury, Bigfoot doesn't talk, but she knows our language," he enlightened. "As long as she sees that we have guns, she'll cooperate."

"How can you be so sure?"

Coulson took in a deep breath of cool, chilly air, and it came out hot and humid like a summer breeze. "She has been conditioned to come and cooperate with us." She caught the ever-so-slight grimace on his face. "Before SHIELD was formed, the government did not exactly give her basic human rights simply because she is, well, different. If you look—" He nodded to the trees. "They used to have a barbed fence around these parts. And she remained in the government's hands until a connection was made between she and Thor."

"Thor?" she peeped. That silly grin came rushing back to her face every time the God's name was mentioned. Of course, that delicious image of his super fine, drool worthy, topless body. Yummy! "What could Thor have in common with Bigfoot?"

Coulson held back a moment, hesitating and weighing the situation. Darcy followed behind him, just waiting anxiously for his answer. "They share the same genetic markers," he finally revealed. "They appear to be of the same origin, but each differ slightly, making them possibly different species. This is precisely why she fell underneath SHIELD's care." He stopped atop a cliff. Darcy unconsciously gripped onto him as she stared back down at the steep, thirty foot drop.

"So she's some type of Goddess?" Darcy inquired, trying to focus on something other than falling off the cliff.

"It is my own inclination that is a good possibility," Coulson said as he took her hand and led her over the cracked cliff to a cozy looking patch of snow and trees. "She has abilities that would fall into such category."

"Like what? Laser eyes? Does she shoot out thunder bolts too? Can she fly?"

He chuckled at her fast, high-pitched voice. Clearly he was amused by her, and Darcy took some pride in that. "No, but she has control over the elements, particularly ice. She is what could possibly be a Frost Giant from Norse mythology."

"A giant?" she questioned flatly. "She's short!"

He shrugged. "Yes, but she exhibits characteristics of them," Coulson debated. "Giants in general were more like nature spirits than anything. According to her history, when she was kept under the care of the U.S. Government, she was confound deep underground in Area 51 many years ago as punishment for leaving her designated area quite a few years ago. There they completely surrounded her in metal. She became very ill, to the point of dying. They were forced to release her back into nature. There she became healthy within a few days."

"And now she is going to be taken from it? How do you know she won't become ill again?" Darcy probed. There was a slight anger to her voice.

"Fury has set aside a special enclosure for her," he answered.

That did not sit well with Darcy. Not a bit. Nope. Not at all. She hopped eagerly off the cliff onto solid ground, and she stopped Coulson by standing in front of the not-so-daunting agent. "You're treating her like an animal!" she growled.

"We have no other choice but to detain her until she can be evaluated as a threat or ally," the agent argued. He watched as Darcy refused to move at his unsatisfactory answer. "Ms. Darcy, these are orders from Fury. Whether you agree to them or not is not important at the moment. They must be followed through for the safety of the public." He shuffled to the side and slide pass Darcy like a slithering, political snake. "It is not my intention to place unjust persons in a cage, but, Ms. Darcy, not all enhanced beings are friendly. You have seen the proof first hand."

Darcy folded her arms and pouted like a toddler, but then, a little idea crept into her head. "You mean there are super criminals?" she asked, almost elated at the thought of two super forces clashing in an epic battle full of blood, guts, and glory. She came walking beside Coulson again. "Do you have a super villain jail for them?"

"Yes," Coulson answered. "We do in fact have a facility."

"Do you have any super villains in there?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

He looked down to her, and she instantly knew before he spoke the words. Darcy deflated while cussing inside her ADHD mind. "That is classified, Ms. Darcy," he answered. She could picked up on that aura from Coulson when suddenly on the inside he became defensive. On the outside he remained calm and cool, casually keeping his back to the wall as he continued to move like nothing was wrong. Slowly from inside his jacket, Coulson pulled out his sleek, ebon' gun from its holster.

"Bigfoot?" she squealed a little too high and loud. Darcy scuffled to put her back to the wall. She pushed herself against Coulson, while brutally chewing on her lip like a dog's chew toy. She looked up and down, to the left, to the right, to the west, and to the east. Finally, somewhere South East, her dark brown eyes rested in that crack between the trees where the sunlight filtered down to the frosted ground. And wow! Bigfoot was just, wow. Forget the fur. This was so much fucking better.

Bigfoot was a lithe and stringy thing, much like a yearling tree. There something vulnerable about her, something very fragile, like her life was teetering on the edge of death. It was not that she did not look healthy because she did, but it was the aura about her. Every feather-light step she took was thoughtful, careful, and calculated. She did not make a single sound as she moved gracefully over the ground. Darcy noticed that not a single blade of grass was bent by her steps. That gave Darcy the sense that Bigfoot was some ethereal creature meant to be worshipped. There was no way she was some horrible villain. No, she had to be a goddess. Darcy was sure of it in her gut.

Bigfoot's skin was not blue, or entirely blue like Coulson had described. The closer she came, the more both of them could see that clearly her skin was not blue. Her skin and whole flesh seemed to be only ice. They could hear the creaks of the ice breaking and refreezing with each step she took. She was facinating because on the top, her skin was the most transparent, and like the ice on the lakes in winter, her skin became more and more opaque with depth. Just beneath the ice, Darcy would swear on her life that there was this beautiful and deep blue water rushing underneath and through her like the water in glaciers.

Her face was mezmorizing. It was very soft and sweet like cotten candy. There were no harsh angles to her face, just very soft curves. She had a high eye-ridge but no eye brows to speak of. Her cheeks were chizzled down so they did not stand out. From what she could tell, her lips were lighter than the rest of her body, seemingly dusted in permanent snow flakes. The other features of her oval face were lost because of her eyes' brilliance. Bigfoot's eyes were exactly like two burning coals that warmed the soul. They even gave off a very subtle glow in the sunlight.

Darcy realized a moment later that Bigfoot wore not a single shred of clothing. It was just out of instinct that she immediately began to take off her black jacket so Bigfoot could cover up her small breasts. It occurred to her, that Bigfoot probably did not own a shred of clothing. A sense of sympathy washed over Darcy. She held out it to her with a smile on her face. "You can take it," she spoke. Bigfoot tilted her head curiously, suspicious of the kindness. "I insist."

Hesitantly her icy fingers curled around the soft material. She gently took it from Darcy and slid it over her body. The jacket was too big for her, but Darcy still smiled. "You look good. You should try pants some time." She thrust her hand out there. "I'm Darcy." Again, Bigfoot tilted her head curiously at the motion. "You shake it with your hand." Bigfoot folded her arms close to her chest and shook her head in denial.

Coulson cleared his throat, earning Bigfoot's full attention. "I'm Agent Coulson. I'm here about your recent discretion." There was a distinct, low, primitive growl emitted form Bigfoot that shook all two-hundred and some of Darcy's bones. But oh, Coulson, nothing intimidated him. _Nothing._ He let out a deep breath. "What you did was unacceptable—"

"They threatened me, crossed into _my_ land," she snorted.

"SHIELD acknowledges that the civilians did cross the lines into your lands, but you did not need to kill them," Coulson argued. "Two wrongs do not make a right, Bigfoot. This is not the first time you have killed either, is it?" She was silent, and Bigfoot stared hatefully at Coulson before bowing her eyes to the ground. There was the truth to dispell Darcy's theory that this creature could not kill. "We have a place set aside at SHIELD where you can come. You will never have to deal with civilians again. You will be safe with us. We will take care of you. You can live comfortably if you cooperate."

"No," she breathed.

"Let me make myself clear, if you cooperate, you will have nothing to fear," Coulson said coolly.

"No," she repeated in the same, strong tone. Her eyes drifted to the gun Coulson had between his eager fingers. Bigfoot took a step back towards the tree line. Her eyes continued to flicker between Coulson and the gun. Darcy could see the pain in her eyes and the connection the gun brought to her. It was very obvious to her that Bigfoot had been at the deadly end of a gun one too many times. It was her hypothesis that this was how Bigfoot was conditioned to come to them.

Darcy glowered at Coulson. "You shouldn't do this," she hissed. Another, deep grumble came from Bigfoot. She glanced wearily at the creature, and then looked with grave concern at Coulson.

"Come now, Bigfoot," Coulson stated. "I am much friendly than the other agents."

"No," she repeated; this time, she sounded as if she were about to snap. In less than a blink of an eye, she was there in front of Coulson with her hand around his neck and lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. She jerked the gun out of his hand and tossed it away. From her hand, his skin began to churn black and blue from her icy touch. Just as Darcy went to reach for her weapon, Coulson was unceremonously tossed on top of her. Darcy yelped as her head hit the rocky terrain hard. Immediately she could feel her goey, hot blood begin to trickle down her face and into her eye. Her vision blurred with the last clear image being of Bigfoot taking through the trees.

Through a raspy voice, Coulson managed to say into his walkie talkie, "She's all yours."

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><p><strong>AUTHORS' BLOG-THINGY-MAJIG<strong>

**Scrimpy:** I swear we had too much fun writing Darcy. She's so quirky and easy to write. She and Coulson would make the greatest non-super hero pairing ever. This needs to become canon in future films. On another note, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the cliffhanger.

**Vee:** Haha, yes! This was such a fun chapter to write. :) Be sure to reply if you want to see more!

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><p><strong>Review Replies (RR): <strong>Since we do not share e-mail, we have decided to answer all reviews here in the chapters. This gives us a chance to each respond to the reviews personally.

_ Annella - "Great so far! Continue please! =) Thanks for writing!"_

**Scrimpy: **Thank you! Hopefully you enjoyed this as well. :) It has yet to be decided if this story will evolve into anything other than a two-shot at the moment. We-mostly myself since I have another story I am writing-need some motivation to split my time further between this story, my other story (TGA), personal works, and college.

**Vee:** I am pleased you enjoyed the prologue too. It was hella fun to write Loki and Sigyn as younger people. && it was super fun to try to come up with the event that would have changed Loki into the cold, pathological liar, and emotionally unstable trickster we all know and love.

_Lahni - "That was wonderful, very moving. Please continue!"_

**Scrimpy:** As stated above, we'll see if we continue this. Both Vee and I would love to continue to write this story. We have a whole plot worked out and everything! We just need the chance now to get this story out there. But even if we don't continue, I'm glad you've enjoyed it this much!

**Vee:** Thank you for the review! I always enjoy reading them. I hope that even though this chapter didn't have Loki and Sigyn interacting, that you still found it fun to read as it was to write. && merry christmas!


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